Inna Trance

I scanned a roll of old negatives. Darkroom. Old chair. Pictures on the walls. I recognize a Krims pinned to the board. And someone seated. Waiting. Someone I should know. Someone now famous. Probably just well known then. Sitting waiting and talking. I can see he is talking off frame. I’ve focused on the magazine at his feet. His hand is on his bicycle. Maybe on someone else’s. I just can’t remember. Old enough ago for the blur to mean more than just a rejected negative.

we were once famous, if we could just remember so long ago.

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